Entwined
by thewindinthemeadow
Summary: Soulmates AU. The pairing is Michandriel (Michael/Samandriel). Samandriel is abandoned and Michael runs into him. Samandriel is traumatized and Michael has more complex problems buried out of sight. Oh, and everyone's human.
1. Chapter 1

****A/N Hello! I know it's a weird pairing, but give it a shot. I hadn't thought about shipping Michael with Samandriel, but this just insisted on being written. This is T for violence, thematic elements, maybe language and sexual situations? I'm not entirely sure of where this is going. The first chapter has a lot about their childhoods and sets up their relationship. It hops around a lot, but when the plot really starts in chapter two it should become more coherent.****

 ** **Important information about this soulmate world:****

At birth, a thin ring of skin around the baby's right wrist changes color. Genetics have no clear connection to the shade of the band of skin (often referred to as a bracelet). The darker the color it turns, the more important and valuable the person is considered. Two soulmates will often have the same color bracelet, but the concentration is always different, so that one of them has a darker bracelet than the other. The partner with the darker bracelet typically tops, regardless of gender and age. Soulmates tend to be within five years of each other in age, but exceptions are not infrequent.

The first time you touch your soulmate the skin on your left wrist forms a bracelet to mimic their right wrist. This allows people to see your soulmate's rank as well as your own. The left bracelet shows that the bond is intact, and basically works as a wedding ring. Any time your soulmate writes out their first name it is tattooed in silver across your shoulders, neck or chest in a location specific to your couple. You feel a mild tingling sensation as the old copy of their name vanishes and is replaced with what they just wrote. The process begins sometime before birth as babies are not unfrequently already tattooed with their soulmate's name when they're born.

The lower person in the bond (the one with the lighter bracelet on their right wrist), feels inexplicably drawn to the other person in the bond. The person with the darker right wrist bracelet can see the emotions in their mates aura. This inequality in the bond can cause problems. It doesn't help that domestic violence against a lower soulmate is considered normal.

 **A/N I know that information's kinda long, but it really is important so please read it.**

When Michael was five he learned to write. He practiced long and hard, for a five year old, because he wanted to leave a neat, legible signature on his soulmate. He desperately wanted to know his soulmate's name, so he figured that his soulmate probably felt the same way. He wished his soulmate had learned to write already, but he hadn't gotten the tattoo yet. His soulmate might not even be born. That was a discouraging thought.

But maybe his soulmate was still too young and just hadn't learned to write. That would make sense, and Michael knew that soulmates often weren't the same age. He perfected writing his name, and every day at sunset he wrote it down. He wanted his soulmate to know that Michael was thinking of him/her, and that seemed like the easiest way. It was the only connection between them.

He learned about time zones when he went on trips, and made sure to write with the right sunset. He didn't want to be an hour off. What if his soulmate thought Michael had forgotten about him/her? He found out what time sunset was at, so that he could set alarms and catch the right time, even if he wasn't at a window. Michael never missed even one day.

Five Years Later

Samandriel was sitting at a chair, studiously looking out the window at the slowly setting sun. It was taking forever. He reminded himself that it always took forever and he needed to be patient. He always watched the sun set, waiting for the reminder that his soulmate was out there and cared about him. His whole life he'd felt that tingling sensation on the back of his neck every sunset, it meant Michael's name was being rewritten there.

The sun slid below the horizon, and Samandriel's stomach churned in excitement. Even though it always happened like clockwork, this was the highlight of his day. Michael might write his name dozens of times over the course of a single day, in both cursive and manuscript, but this time was different, special.

A soft tingling sensation brushed across the back of Samandriel's neck. It had happened. He hurried to his mother's two way mirror set to check and make sure it was right. He couldn't read yet, but Samandriel recognized the signature on the back of his neck. It was in elegant, even cursive, just like always. A little smaller than yesterday, he noticed with disappointment, but clearly legible.

Three Years Later

Michael tried hard to concentrate on the lecture, but the funny tingling on the back of his neck was making it hard to concentrate. _Amendments to the Constitution,_ he told himself. _Focus._ Normally history was an easy subject, but his neck felt _so weird_. It was very distracting. He started to worry. Was this some sort of medical problem? Did he have a rash or something?

Michael raised his hand. "Mr. Roberts, can I go to the nurse's office? I feel- weird."

Any other student in that class might've been disbelieved, but Michael was such a good student and studied so hard that the teacher let him go. He went down the hall to the nurse's office. She looked at the back of his neck.

"How long have you had your soulmate's name here?" she asked.

"My what?" Michael asked. "Wait, my soulmate learned to write?!"

"Ah," the nurse said. "So that's the problem. The tattoo can be a bit uncomfortable if you're not used to it. From the looks of it, I'd say Samandriel's learning to write his name."

"Samandriel?" Michael asked excitedly. "That's his name?"

"Yes," she said. "It's a long name, too. That's probably part of why it's annoying you. Here, come look in the mirror. It's a two way, so you should be able to see it."

Michael stared at the scruffy writing in the mirror. "It's beautiful," he said in an awed voice.

The nurse looked skeptical. "It's rough. Probably a first grader."

"So you think he's six?" Michael asked.

She shrugged. "Somewhere in that range."

Michael's neck tingled again, and Samandriel's writing shuffled over slightly. The new version of his name was about the same. _A six year old,_ Michael thought. _So he's about seven years younger than me. And I know he's a he. Samandriel._

Two Years Later

Samandriel was staring at his face in the mirror. A bruise was rising on his cheek, and dried blood traced a path down from his nostrils. He'd been beaten at school by a group of older kids. Lots of people had walked by. Nobody had tried to help him. Eventually a teacher came to break up what he called a fight, but Samandriel had taken all the blame. It had been four on one, and Samandriel was the only one hurt. How was it his fault?

But those four kids had had dark bracelets. Samandriel's bracelet was the color of fresh snow. Pure, icy white. So the bullies went to the nurse for checkups, and Samandriel went to the principal's office for getting beaten up. He'd had to take a note back to his father, who spanked him. It didn't make any sense. He wanted to start crying, but he was worried Anna or Uriel would hear him.

Samandriel stared down at the white ring of skin on his right wrist, thinking hard about soulmates. He was torn. On one hand, the mate with the darker bracelet had all the power in a relationship. Michael could do pretty much anything to him and nobody would raise a hand to stop him. That was scary. But on the other hand, Samandriel could barely imagine the amount of dedication it took for Michael to write out his name every single day at exactly the right time.

Samandriel just worried that all that dedication would vanish when Michael saw Samandriel's wrist. He didn't want that to happen. He found himself starting to wear long sleeves all the time, hoping to make the bracelet less visible. But he felt like it was tattooed on his forehead and nobody could miss it.

Three Years Later

Michael was finding freshman orientation very dull. They were sitting in a classroom, talking about how much harder college was than high school. Michael knew that already. He'd taken classes at the college and had to work it around his high school schedule for the last two years. He lightly drummed his fingers on his knee and partially tuned out the discussion session. _Sleep schedules, support groups, blah , blah, blah. Wait. Did he just say soulmates?_

"Will everyone who has found their soulmate please raise their hand?"

Michael scowled. He was still patiently writing his name every sunset, but he really wanted to meet Samandriel. It was getting hard to wait after hoping for so long. A lot of people were nervous about their soulmate, because a mate with a darker bracelet could make their mate's life horrible. Michael wasn't worried at all. His bracelet was ebony black.

Pure black bracelets like Michael's were unusual, and even if Samandriel had one they would be equals. Samandriel couldn't come out on top. But Samandriel's bracelet couldn't be black, because there was always a notable difference in darkness. Soulmates never were equals. The thought was distressing.

One Year Later

It was definite now. Samandriel did not want to meet Michael. The pain that Samandriel associated with the white soulmate bracelet on his wrist had made him consciously give up on the whole idea. But he still found himself waiting with baited breath for the sun to set each night. He wished he could make his subconscious give up on Michael.

The white bracelet meant pain. Samandriel's brother Uriel wanted to throw him out into the street because of that band of skin, even though Samandriel was only twelve. His other brother, Balthasar, thought he should dye the bracelet to make it look different, darker. His sister Anna wanted to have him committed to an insane asylum to get him off of their hands. His only sibling who was even remotely supportive was Rachel. She was a brat a lot of the time, but she understood that people meant more than the strip of colored skin on their wrists.

Samandriel's father had him locked up in the house. He could only leave to go to school, and he had to be driven there, he couldn't walk. He was basically permanently grounded for the crime of existing. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to have time to stare up at a bright blue sky and feel the breeze mess up his hair. It was depressing, being trapped indoors all day long. He found himself daydreaming about somewhere free.

One Year Later

Michael was renting a two bedroom apartment by himself. Most college students couldn't afford that kind of thing, but Michael's parents were rich. As long as his grades were good he could stay there. He called his parents every few weeks, but that was the limit of his contact with them.

Michael had two friends. Gabriel and Raphael. They both had black bracelets. They were the only people he felt confident were friends with him because they liked him, not because he was practically royalty with that black bracelet. Gabriel was mischievous and loved pranking people. Half the time Michael couldn't keep up with him. It was like he was on a permanent sugar high, which made sense given the amount of candy he always ate. He was still in high school.

Raphael talked less, and people listened when he spoke. He was serious and withdrawn, and Michael saw huge wells of pain in his eyes. Michael and Gabriel were his only close friends. Raphael and Michael would stand silently or do homework, while Gabriel raced around like a hyperactive puppy and dragged them into all sorts of things they'd never think to try. They weren't half bad, as friends went.

 **Please review and stuff. Thanks for reading this!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N So, I stuck music in here, because I didn't think I could write a realistic car ride without music. I always listen to music in the car. The songs are _My Songs Know What You did in the_ _Dark_ (also known as _Light Em Up_ ),by _Fall Out Boy, I'm So Sorry_ by _Imagine Dragons,_ and _So Cold_ by _Breaking Benjamin._ I wrote the lyrics down from listening to the songs, because Samandriel wouldn't be able to check lyrics online. I wanted it to be realistic. I think I got everything right. **

The January Samandriel was thirteen, his parents drove two states over to go to an event with his older sisters Rachel and Anna. Samandriel was alone for two nights with only Balthasar and Uriel for company. Balthasar got horribly drunk the first night and was unconscious with a hangover on the morning of the second day. Samandriel was in the kitchen looking through the cereal options when Uriel found him.

"Hey, brat," Uriel said.

Samandriel blinked up at him, confused. Uriel had completely ignored Samandriel for over a month. He hadn't expected Uriel to give up on pretending he didn't exist so easily.

"Hi?" Samandriel questioned.

"We're going out," Uriel stated roughly.

He seized Samandriel's shoulder and dragged him toward the front door. Samandriel was too baffled to consider resisting.

"But- I'm not supposed to be outside," Samandriel protested weakly. "Dad will be mad."

"Dad's not here now," Uriel growled. "You haven't been outside except for _school_ in ages. Don't you want to get out for a bit?"

"Well, y-yes, but-" Samandriel started.

Uriel yanked him out the door without giving him time to finish. Samandriel stared wide eyed up at the bright blue sky. He could've stared all day, but Uriel pulled him to the car.

"Could we- maybe- walk around a bit?" Samandriel asked hopefully. He turned the full power of his soft blue eyes on his older brother.

"You'll walk when we get there," Uriel growled. "In. Now."

Samandriel climbed into the backseat of the car. Uriel sped out of the driveway before Samandriel had time to buckle his seatbelt. He quickly clasped the seatbelt; he didn't want to risk being unbuckled in case there was an accident. Samandriel wanted to ask where they were going, but he was too shy. He didn't want to lose whatever this was. It felt too good to be true, and he knew that it probably was. Uriel wouldn't just be nice to him like this.

Still, he was going to enjoy it as long as it lasted. Samandriel looked out the window at the houses flashing past. They looked different from the houses he saw every morning on the way to school, and he relished the change. He'd rarely been happier than just looking out the car window at the passing houses.

Of course, Uriel had to spoil it. He turned on the radio, much louder than Samandriel was used to. It hurt his ears and made it hard to concentrate on the view. Uriel flipped through the channels, not giving Samandriel a chance to get used to the volume. He settled on a song that was loud and seemed harsh to Samandriel. He listened; he didn't have much choice with it blasting his ears off.

 _"_ _-The mean- mean time,_

 _I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart._

 _I'm in the de-details with the devil;_

 _Now the world can never get me on my level."_

Samandriel stopped listening. He didn't like this song, and it didn't make sense. He shuddered slightly and desperately focused on the suburban neighborhood outside the car. It didn't work for long; soon he found himself listening to the music again.

 _"_ _I've got scars from tomorrow,_

 _And I wish you could see_

 _That you're the antidote_

 _To everything except for me."_

Samandriel kept listening. The song was growing on him. Maybe rock music wasn't so bad after all. It was too loud, but he liked the rhythm and the lyrics made more sense and scared him less. He felt like he _had_ scars from tomorrow. He hadn't known music could really mean something.

 _"_ _A constellation of tears_

 _On your lashes._

 _Burn everything you love,_

 _Then burn the ashes."_

That seemed a bit harsh, but the song was certainly less nasty than he'd originally assumed. He wouldn't want to hear it again, but he wanted to hear the rest. He liked it. He listened intently to the rest of the song and was a bit sad when it finished. The next song started playing. The music was harder and made his ears sting a bit.

 _"_ _About time for anyone telling you_

 _Off for all your deeds._

 _No sign the roaring thunder_

 _Stopped in cold to read._

 _No time!"_

Samandriel found himself tuning the new song out. It wasn't that it bothered him or anything, but it was loud and fast and he didn't connect to it. When the song softened for the bridge he started paying attention again.

 _"_ _Life isn't always what you think it'd be;_

 _Turn your head for one second and the tables turn._

 _Yeah!_

 _And I know- I know that I did you wrong._

 _Will you trust me when I say that_

 _I'll make it up to you, somehow. Somehow."_

When the song went back to the chorus, Samandriel returned his attention to the window. For a while Samandriel payed no attention to anything and just stared blankly at the passing trees and fields. He wasn't really seeing them. He was worrying.

Uriel was his least favorite sibling, the one who scared him the most. He hadn't shown any signs of caring about Samandriel, ever. Now, suddenly, he wanted Samandriel to come along on a road trip to who-knows-where. It didn't feel right. He shifted nervously and watched Uriel's posture for clues. Uriel just looked like Uriel. No help there.

A new song started, and Samandriel caught his ears perking up. It sounded interesting. The minute long introduction was seductive and enthralling. He couldn't tell why yet, but he knew he liked this song. The singing began.

 _"_ _Crowded streets all cleared away, one by one._

 _Hollow heroes separate, as they run._

 _You're so cold; keep your hand in mine._

 _Wise men wonder, while strong men die._

 _Show me how it ends; it's alright._

 _Show me how defenseless you really are._

 _Satisfied and empty inside; well, that's alright._

 _Let's give this another try."_

Samandriel really liked this song. He listened as carefully as he could, and caught most of the words. He wanted to know the name of the song, but Uriel did not look happy. Samandriel was too afraid of him to ask anything. He tried to keep the chorus running in his head; he wanted remember it as long as possible. He nearly cried when a new song started. Soon the panoply of songs and rhythms drove that one song he'd liked so well out of his head.

Uriel drove them out of the fields and forests, and into a city. Samandriel looked around in confusion. _Where is this?_ he wondered. _What are we doing here? Should I ask Uriel? No, bad idea._

Samandriel sat there nervously, trying to come up with a logical explanation for why his most hostile family member had taken him to a strange city. He wasn't coming up with much. They kept driving, and he started to wonder why it had taken so long to get there. It didn't make sense to leave one city just to drive to another. How long had it been, anyway?

He thought to check the clock on the dashboard. 1:37, it read. _Didn't we leave at around eight?_ Samandriel worried. _Why did it take five and a half hours to get- wherever here is?_

Samandriel looked around for street signs with helpful clues, but Uriel was still speeding and the buildings were dizzying. He felt tired. He wasn't used to long trips in the car, and the loud music wasn't helping. He shivered and rubbed his eyes.

"Uriel?" Samandriel asked timidly.

Uriel didn't respond. He should've been able to hear over the music; it was a softer instrumental.

"Uriel?" Samandriel tried again. "Where are we?"

"Shut up," Uriel growled. That wasn't very encouraging. Samandriel gave up.

Samandriel started worrying about what could happen, and felt his breathing speed up. He tried to think about something else, but his fears were hard to ignore. There was no way this trip was going to end well, and Samandriel knew it. Uriel was planning something, and if he needed to drive over five hours whatever it was couldn't be good.

Samandriel's heartbeat pounded through his head, and he almost started crying. He wasn't able to quit panicking. He tried to focus on the shimmer of the glass windows on the buildings, but his head wouldn't quit pounding. Tears fell. He hadn't had any water since the early morning, so his tears soon changed to dry sobs.

"Will you _quit_ making that infernal noise?!" Uriel demanded angrily.

Samandriel sniffed weakly and covered his face to try to disguise the sound of his sobbing. He almost choked, but he quit making noise. Uriel seemed content to ignore him after that. Samandriel wasn't sure how long he just sat there, hunched over and shaking.

The car stopped, but Uriel left the engine on. They couldn't be stopping for long, so Samandriel didn't bother trying to look up and pay attention. Uriel got out, and jerked Samandriel's car door open. He said something, but Samandriel didn't catch what it was. Uriel sounded very far away, like he was shouting at Samandriel from across a football field.

Uriel slapped Samandriel across the face, hard enough to knock him against the opposite door. Samandriel saw stars. He whimpered and tried to shield his head with his arms.

"Out of my car now, you piece of crap!" Uriel yelled at him.

Samandriel obeyed automatically, climbing out of the car and standing unsteadily on the broken pavement.

"You wanted to walk," Uriel said. "Walk!"

Samandriel stumbled a few feet away before turning back. He finally understood why they were here. It made a lot of sense, and he couldn't see why he hadn't thought of it earlier.

"We're brothers," Samandriel protested softly. "You can't just abandon me here."

"You're no brother of mine," Uriel snarled. "You've done nothing but weigh my family down and make us look bad since you were born and got that disgusting bracelet."

Samandriel tried to scowl convincingly, but his lip quivered. "Dad won't let you do this," Samandriel argued.

"Dad won't know," Uriel said smugly. His face twisted nastily. "And frankly, he won't care."

"I'll f-find my way back," Samandriel said, voice lacking conviction.

Uriel smirked at that. "Kid, what's Rachel's phone number?"

Samandriel's mind blanked. He'd never owned a phone, so learning numbers had seemed unnecessary. It wasn't like he was allowed to go anywhere he could get lost. His head drooped.

"You don't even know the home address to find us," Uriel said mockingly.

"Yeah, I do!" Samandriel insisted desperately. "16- no, 14. 14 Charles St., Columbus. Or- Cleveland?" He gave up. He didn't know where he lived. Well, had lived. He couldn't stop the tear that ran down his cheek at the thought.

"You pathetic piece of scum," Uriel hissed at him. "At least I never have to see you again."

Uriel turned to leave.

Samandriel panicked. "Wait," he pleaded. He caught Uriel's shirtsleeve.

"You dare touch me, you _stain_!" Uriel punched Samandriel in the jaw, knocking him to the ground.

Samandriel made no attempt to get up, but Uriel kicked him repeatedly anyway. Samandriel curled into a fetal position and tried to defend his face and stomach, which seemed to be Uriel's preferred targets. Uriel got bored of kicking Samandriel around and yanked off his jacket. It was thin, but it had been partially hiding his bracelet, and staving off the worst of the wind and cold.

"I hope you die of cold and exposure," Uriel snarled.

Samandriel shivered pathetically at the rush of icy air and curled farther into himself. He felt one more rough kick to his lower back, and then Uriel was leaving. Despite Uriel being his last connection to home, Samandriel was relieved when he left. At least nobody would kick him again if he froze to death here.

He only vaguely registered the noise of a car pulling away. It was so cold… His mind pulled at him, reminding him of the song lyrics he'd been trying to memorize. _"You're so cold; keep your hand in mine…"_ It was starting to snow lightly as Samandriel fell asleep.

Samandriel was cold when he woke up. The icy wind nipped at him, and he contemplated the thought that he could die, right there. He rubbed his bare arms, desperately wishing he had his coat. It was freezing! Was a light jacket really too much to ask?

The wind blew snow in his hair. He found himself struggling to hold back tears. Samandriel tried to be strong; he'd need to be if he was going to survive this. What was he supposed to do? He was alone in a strange city that he didn't even know the name of. He didn't even know what state he was in! Uriel probably could've driven him to Canada and he wouldn't've even noticed.

Samandriel struggled, the cold making it hard to think with any clarity. The cold. That was the biggest problem. He needed to find somewhere with shelter from the wind. He stood and looked around dizzily. His head hurt, and one side of his face felt sticky. Something red was dripping onto his t-shirt.

He stumbled in the direction that felt right. His legs were shaking so badly that he could hardly stay upright. A few minutes later he collapsed against the wall of an abandoned gas station. He was lucky that the building blocked most of the wind; there was no way he'd have been able to get up again after he dropped. He huddled against the wall, shivering pitifully and blowing on his icy fingers.

Samandriel sat there on the ground for hours. He drifted in and out of consciousness a little, but mostly he was awake. The sun slowly slid down the sky, and the temperature dropped with it. He was freezing, and thirsty. He hadn't had any water since early in the morning. Snow flurries drifted through the air, but they weren't enough to catch for water.

The sun was almost to the horizon. Samandriel watched it carefully, and he felt his heart speed up. _Really?_ he asked himself. _I could be dead by morning, and I'm excited about a silly tradition of a soulmate I haven't even met. This is stupid. I hate the whole soulmates idea with those bracelets. Thinking about about Michael should be scary, not exciting._ Unfortunately, Samandriel's heart wasn't with the program.

He watched the sun sink out of sight with wide and eager eyes. This night was special. It might very well be the last one. He waited for the familiar touch on the back of his neck, and the gentle tingling. The sun set. Nothing happened. The sun had set; it was over. Michael had forgotten him. Michael was the last thing Samandriel had had to hold onto. Now he was gone. Never, not even once, in all of Samandriel's whole life, had Michael ever forgotten him. It would've hurt horribly on any day, but to have Michael abandon him- right as he lost everything else cut deeper than he'd imagined it could.

 **Please review if you like it! Reviews are motivational, and I love hearing what people think!**


	3. Chapter 3

It was the end of twilight; the time when it really gets dark, maybe an hour after sunset. Half the streetlights were broken on this stretch of road, and Michael was beginning to wish he'd brought at least a flashlight.

Michael stopped walking, staring at a misty light shining dimly in the distance. It looked weird. He'd never seen any kind of lighting like that; it almost seemed to be conveying emotion. The light was- despairing, injured. How could a light look like that? What was this?

He stepped off the sidewalk to walk toward the light. It was closer than he'd thought; the light was dim and weak. He followed it to the side of an abandoned building. A kid was curled up against the wall, coated lightly in frost. He was giving off light.

The pieces clicked into place for Michael. The light was an aura. As the person in the bond with the darker bracelet, he could read his soulmate's aura. So, this freezing child asleep on the street was Samandriel.

Michael knelt beside Samandriel. Samandriel was pale and thin; he looked about eleven, but he was malnourished and might actually be older. Michael brushed the snow off Samandriel and noticed he wasn't even wearing a jacket. What was he doing outside in January in a t-shirt? How could anyone let him stay out here like this?

Michael gently shook Samandriel's shoulder, trying to wake him. He groaned, and his head lolled to the side. There was dried blood on the side of his face. Michael touched Samandriel's face to try to ascertain the extent of the damage. As soon as his fingers came into contact with Samandriel's skin, a jolt of electricity raced through him.

Michael jerked his arm back, clutching his left wrist. It felt like it was on fire; he had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from screaming. He gasped for a minute and wiped a bit of blood from his mouth.

"Ouch," he complained offhandedly.

Michael checked his left wrist. The new bracelet, Samandriel's bracelet, was solidly in place. It still stung, but almost all the pain had gone. Its color contrasted vividly with the black bracelet on his right wrist. The right one was black. The left one was white.

He studied the new band more carefully. It couldn't really be pure white. That would be ridiculous. People with white bracelets were social outcasts, and his soulmate could not be one of them. But the bracelet was as light as the snow on the ground. It was definite. Michael's soulmate, Samandriel, had an ice white bracelet. This was embarrassing.

Oh, well. This was his reality now. At least it made sense of why Samandriel was unconscious on the street. A lot of people with the very lightest bracelets were thrown out on the street and lived as homeless people. Samandriel's family must've thrown him out for having a white bracelet.

Michael went to check Samandriel's left wrist. Having your soulmate's bracelet burnt into your wrist was painful, and the kid hadn't even woken up. The black bracelet was solidly in place on Samandriel's left wrist, and he winced when Michael touched it. That was normal.

He found he liked the way the black band looked on Samandriel's wrist. It forever marked him as Michael's, which was strangely satisfying. He knew it would sting Samandriel a bit if he touched his wrist, but he wanted to know what it felt like under his fingers. He traced the edge of the black bracelet, its temperature already cooling. Samandriel shivered and made a pitiful sound like a sob.

Michael set down Samandriel's arm and started taking off his own coat. He couldn't let his soulmate freeze while he carried him somewhere warm. He wrapped his coat around Samandriel and gently lifted him into his arms. The only place he could think of to go to was his hotel; he didn't exactly know the city. He was only here for a few more days, and he hoped Samandriel wouldn't have too many strong ties to the location.

As the stronger soulmate, he could always force Samandriel to abandon friends and family to live wherever Michael wanted, but he would rather avoid forcing Samandriel into anything. Samandriel probably wasn't too attached to the people who left him to die in the snow, but it was a possibility. However, Michael had no intention of allowing Samandriel to stay anywhere he was in danger.

Michael's shoe caught in a crack in the sidewalk, making him stumble. He adjusted his balance and was fine, but Samandriel half woke up. His eyelids fluttered, and he whimpered. He reached up and caught hold of the collar of Michael's sweater. The movement left his right wrist exposed, giving Michael a chance to study the white bracelet the must've marred Samandriel's skin his whole life.

It looked natural and innocent there, not at all like the sort or thing that carried a crushing social stigma. Aesthetically, it was beautiful. But he knew what it meant, and it wasn't beautiful. He was going to have to work hard to keep Samandriel safe because of that bracelet. At least, with his own black bracelet, he could protect his soulmate.

Michael shifted his grip on Samandriel, freeing one of his hands completely. It was shockingly easy to carry Samandriel in one arm. He was badly underweight. Michael carded his fingers through Samandriel's hair, and Samandriel leaned sleepily into his touch. Michael blinked; he hadn't expected that from Samandriel. Was it the soulmate bond, pulling Samandriel towards him and making him desperate for Michael?

Michael studied Samandriel's aura, trying to decipher the tangled emotions. They were confusing. He hoped Samandriel would be easier to read when he was awake. He tightened his arms around Samandriel and saw an increase of what he thought was a sense of safety in the aura. If he was right, that was good. He wanted Samandriel to feel safe with him.

Michael started walking again and watched unease and fear take center stage in Samandriel's aura. Samandriel's hand tightened on Michael's collar. Michael brushed his fingers reassuringly through Samandriel's hair, and tried to walk more smoothly. Samandriel settled down, but still clutched Michael's collar like a lifeline.

He reached the hotel and set Samandriel down gently on the bed. He tucked the kid under the blankets and left to take off his shoes. When he came back a minute later, Samandriel's aura was a maelstrom of fear and panic. He'd been fine a minute ago.

Michael sat down next to Samandriel and caressed his cheek. He watched Samandriel's aura calm and settle back to what it had been when he left to take his shoes off. He cupped Samandriel's face in his hands, and Samandriel's aura increased in- hope? Happiness? Comfort? Whatever it was, it was a lot better than fear and panic. Apparently, Michael couldn't leave for any length of time without having Samandriel panic. That was going to complicate things.

He had known that the bond would pull Samandriel to him and increase the kid's dependence on him, but he hadn't expected it to work this strongly or quickly. They hadn't even met properly, and Samandriel was more attached then Michael had imagined he would get for years. Maybe Samandriel's vulnerability was making him more desperate for any protection he could find.

Michael had to leave Samandriel for a few minutes. He needed to turn the heat up, heat water in the microwave, and fetch a washcloth for Samandriel's bloody face. Samandriel's aura was having a freak out by the time Michael finished all that, but he quickly calmed down as Michael sponged the worst of the blood off his face.

Michael had been thinking to rent an adjoining room since he had a guest, but Samandriel couldn't handle having Michael farther than a few feet away. He couldn't let Samandriel suffer all night and wake up on his own. The armchair wasn't all that comfortable, but Michael could make do for one night. He dragged it over to Samandriel's bedside.

He tried to wake Samandriel to have him drink the hot water, but Samandriel was too deeply asleep. He just moaned and rolled over. Michael poured the water into Samandriel's mouth once it had cooled slightly and he wasn't risking burning Samandriel's tongue. Samandriel swallowed instinctively.

Samandriel drank about a cup and a half of water before Michael gave up. He turned out the lights and tried to sleep. He found that Samandriel was happier when they held hands, so Michael's hand stayed over Samandriel's. He didn't let go all night.


	4. Chapter 4

Samandriel woke up slowly. He wasn't sure where he was, and he didn't feel safe opening his eyes. The room was warmer than the attic where he slept. The bed was a lot softer, too, than his cot. He was under a pile of warm blankets that were comforting. He pulled the blankets up to his neck and just lay there for a minute.

Samandriel needed to figure out where he was. He wanted to be able to predict what would most likely happen, and he couldn't if he wouldn't open his eyes. He wanted to just fall back asleep, but that wasn't the safest option. Samandriel had learned a long time ago to always go with the safest choice. He opened his eyes.

The lighting was dim, but he could see the texture of the cream paint on the ceiling. He tried weakly to sit up, but his head spun and he fell back onto the pillows. That scared him. If he was this weak, anyone who came along could hurt him, and there wouldn't be anything he could do. He made himself look around the room. It was a hotel room, and it was empty.

That was confusing. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the street in a strange city. Why would someone bring him to a hotel room? He struggled into a sitting position.

"Um, hello?" Samandriel called. "Is anyone- is anyone here?"

There was no response. He was alone.

Samandriel looked around more carefully. There had to be something here. Nobody would've just brought him to a hotel and left him there. He noticed a plastic water bottle on the nightstand. It was generic enough that it could be from any gas station or grocery store on the continent. The only other thing in the room was a small black suitcase against the far wall.

Samandriel got out of bed and went over to the window. He pulled back the curtains. The parking lot looked normal, and the sign designated this as Comfort Inn. There were thousands of Comfort Inns, so none of that was helpful for determining where he was or how he'd ended up there.

He walked back to the bed and sat down, trying to think. He got distracted by his thirst. The water bottle looked really appealing. He wondered if he'd get in trouble if he drank from it. There was nobody around to hit him, so he decided it was worth the risk. After he drank the water he hid under the blankets and tried to look as small as possible.

Time passed, a lot of it, and he didn't keep track. The blankets were the softest he'd felt in a long time, and it was hard to worry when he was so warm and comfortable. He was hungry, but he didn't want to leave the blankets to try to find something to eat. He was happy and content just lying there.

Samandriel caught a fistful of the blanket and rubbed his cheek against it. The movement exposed his left wrist, and he froze, staring at the black bracelet looped around his wrist. He'd been marked! So, Michael had found him somehow. At least now he understood why he'd been taken to a hotel room.

Samandriel shivered fearfully and clutched at the ebony black bracelet. He tried to cover it up, but it was all he could see. He wasn't sure what to think, but then he got so scared he just couldn't think properly at all. He was terrified of Michael. There was no escaping him now that he'd caught him, and there was never any fighting him to begin with. That combination was frightening.

And now Samandriel had the bracelet, and he knew that Michael was one of the most powerful people he would ever meet. Samandriel was not looking forward to that meeting. Except that wasn't true at all. He wanted to meet Michael. He wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. And that made the whole thing even more terrifying. He wasn't going to be able to resist Michael, even emotionally, where he should have had a little control. He wasn't going to have anything.

Samandriel started crying. Not because he was more miserable than usual, not because he was so torn he didn't know what end was up, but, honestly, because he hadn't gotten to meet Michael yet and he couldn't stand waiting. And then he felt like the world's biggest idiot for crying about how he hadn't met the person he was most scared of. It was a mess.

And Samandriel couldn't even cry in peace. A soft tingling sensation on the back of his neck told him that Michael was writing out his name. He found himself smiling, which was ridiculous, because he was supposed to be crying. And he was crying, he was just smiling at the same time. Was it sunset already?

The curtains were still open like he'd left them, and he could see that the sun was high in the sky. It had to be at least an hour before sunset. Wait, an hour. The time zones. Uriel must have taken him far enough that he was a time zone off from Ohio. So Michael was writing an hour before sunset now. He hadn't forgotten Samandriel yesterday, Samandriel had just gotten mixed up and not paid attention at the right time.

It was a little overwhelming. Samandriel had an unbelievably faithful and attentive soulmate who also happened to be ridiculously powerful. And even with all that power, Michael had never once forgotten their little tradition with the writing. Samandriel burst into tears, why he wasn't sure. It wasn't a little overwhelming; it was overwhelming, period.

The spacious hotel room felt tiny and cramped, giving Samandriel claustrophobia. He was freaking out, and he couldn't stay there. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he got up and ran outside. He didn't have a plan, and he knew leaving was stupid, but he couldn't help it. He just ran on instinct.

Samandriel was weak, feverish, hungry, tired and cold. Fear and panic gave wings to his feet, but the confusion in his heart tore him down. He slowed from a run to a jog, from a jog to a walk, from a walk to a stroll, and finally to a stumble. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, and his breaths were weak and ragged.

He'd chosen his path intuitively, and it led him to an empty road. The second car he saw was a taxi, and it was coming toward him. It blew past him and uied. The car came to an ungraceful stop beside him. He stared at it uncertainly. He wasn't hitchhiking or anything, so why had it stopped?

A young man with black hair and blue-green eyes climbed out of the back. In Samandriel's opinion, he was the handsomest man in the world. He was tall, and built like a dancer or a gymnast. His face was calm and unexpressive, except for his eyes. His eyes conveyed more depth than most, and there was a fierce light to them, as if he were a warrior. His posture was relaxed, in a way that seemed prideful without being cocky. He looked as if he could spring into action without even a moment's warning.

Samandriel swallowed hard, then realized to his embarrassment that he was standing frozen under the man's cool gaze, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He choked, and tried unsuccessfully to tear his eyes away from the man. It didn't work.

"Michael," Samandriel whispered. It wasn't a question, just a statement. There was no uncertainty in Samandriel's mind as to who this was.

Michael took two slow steps toward Samandriel. They looked unconscious, like he didn't even realize he was moving. Even with just those two slow steps, he displayed a grace and power that left Samandriel whimpering in fear and something like awe.

"Samandriel," Michael replied softly. The word was like a caress. He looked right through Samandriel, as if he could see straight to his soul. "It's good to see you awake."

"I-I… I," Samandriel stammered incoherently. He stumbled backward and tripped over his own feet. He tried to stop his fall with his hands and scuffed them on the rocky ground. Tears filled his eyes. "Ow," he wailed.

Michael crossed the space between them with a few quick steps, kneeling beside Samandriel and studying him concernedly. He brushed Samandriel's shoulder with his hand. Samandriel flinched away, breathing heavily, eyes wide with fright. He caught Michael's gaze and found he couldn't look away.

"Don't be afraid," Michael said. His words were gentle, despite being almost an order.

Samandriel tried to remember how to breathe.

Michael's head tilted to the side. He laid his hand on Samandriel's forehead and let it rest there. Samandriel flinched and trembled at first, but relaxed after a few moments. He leaned into Michael's touch, whimpering pitifully.

"You can calm down," Michael said, voice sounding almost puzzled. "You'll be ok." He pulled Samandriel to a sitting position and cradled him on his lap.

All of Samandriel's instincts were telling him that he was finally safe. He was in his soulmate's arms; he could relax and quit worrying. Michael would take care of him. Unfortunately, Samandriel's consciousness was screaming at him that he was in horrible danger. With a black bracelet, Michael's power was nearly absolute. And Samandriel's bracelet was white, leaving him completely exposed. Michael had to be mad about Samandriel's bracelet, unless he liked how completely at his mercy it left Samandriel. And that would make Michael scary anyway.

Samandriel felt that he ought to pull away from Michael and run as far away as possible. But that was such a traumatic idea emotionally that it paralyzed him. All he could do was sit there clinging to Michael like a frightened child. He tried to remember how to breathe and keep from crying. He pressed his face against Michael's shoulder, trying to hide from everything.

Michael carried Samandriel to the taxi and sat with him in the backseat. Samandriel fought off fear. The last time he'd been in a car headed to an unknown destination, Uriel had dumped him in a strange city. What if Michael did the same? Maybe if he asked Michael where they were going, and Michael answered- then maybe he wouldn't be so afraid.

"M- Michael?" he asked timidly.

"Yes?" Michael asked immediately. He focused on Samandriel and waited patiently.

The contrast with Uriel, who had ignored Samandriel and then told him to shut up, could not have been stronger. That gave Samandriel a little more confidence.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Just back to the hotel," Michael said. "You're freezing again. Why did you leave in the first place?"

"I d-didn't- I don't know," Samandriel stammered in a whisper.

He knew he'd get in trouble for not answering properly, so when Michael's hand came up he was expecting a blow. He flinched and whimpered. Michael rested his hand gently on Samandriel's head. He carded his fingers through Samandriel's tangled hair. Samandriel couldn't help leaning into Michael's touch.

"Please don't fear me," Michael said.

It was strange. Samandriel could've sworn Michael was sad that Samandriel feared him. But that didn't make sense. Samandriel was afraid of everyone, and nobody had ever cared before. Michael was different. He didn't act like anyone else Samandriel knew, so Samandriel couldn't predict him at all. Unpredictability was certainly scary, even if Michael had yet to hurt him in any way.

Samandriel snuggled closer to Michael, wishing halfheartedly that his body hadn't betrayed him. He was supposed to be scared! He should at least be tense. Instead, he was more relaxed than he'd been in years. He felt so undeniably _safe_ in Michael's embrace. It was confusing.

The taxi stopped, and then Michael was carrying Samandriel inside. Samandriel recognized it as the very room he'd fled from just three quarters of an hour before. Michael flipped on the lights before setting Samandriel down so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Samandriel was reluctant to release his hold on Michael's shirt, but Michael made him. He whined softly in protest.

Then Samandriel felt utterly pathetic. He barely knew Michael, and he was already ridiculously attached. What was the soulmate bond doing to his head? Or maybe it was just Michael himself effecting Samandriel so heavily. He did seem like the sort of person it would be easy to get hopelessly attached to.

Michael didn't seem to mind the actions Samandriel thought were so stupid. He entangled his fingers in Samandriel's hair reassuringly. It wasn't a big deal as gestures go, but Samandriel found it was massively comforting. Michael seemed to pick up on that, perhaps because he could read Samandriel's aura.

Too soon, Michael let Samandriel's hair alone and stood facing him. He was studying Samandriel carefully with a stern expression. Samandriel felt horribly self conscious and struggled with the urge to cower. His lip quivered. Michael's eyes were calculating, and Samandriel felt intimidated.

Michael exhaled softly. "When's the last time you ate?" he asked suddenly.

Samandriel blinked at the unexpected question. It was an odd question, almost like something you'd ask someone you cared about. It wasn't anything Samandriel was used to.

"Err- dinner; the night before last," he replied uncertainly.

Michael wasn't an easy person to read, and Samandriel wasn't sure how to interpret his actions. His face was impassive; his posture was inconclusive. He left without giving any sign of what he was planning.

It was silly. It didn't even make any sense, but Samandriel was panicking. He was worried that Michael had left because Samandriel had said something wrong, and Michael was mad about it. He knew he was freaking out about nothing; there was no reason for Michael to be mad that Samandriel hadn't eaten anything for a while. And leaving didn't necessarily mean that Michael was mad. It wasn't like he was _leaving_ leaving.

Samandriel sat there, waiting for Michael to come back, for what felt like hours but was probably only about a minute. He wanted Michael to come back. He wasn't sure he could survive it if Michael didn't come back. Michael _had_ to come back. And then maybe he could find a way to convince Michael to keep him around for as long as possible.

Samandriel was trying to come up with a reason for Michael to keep him around, and failing miserably. He felt so worthless, and had been told so many times that he was worthless. There weren't any reasons for Michael to let him stay.

Michael came back in and sat down next to Samandriel on the edge of the bed.

Samandriel twisted his hands together in his lap, staring at them intently. He sat hunched over, hoping that he would run less risk of bothering Michael if he appeared smaller. Michael was watching him carefully, so it hadn't worked.

"Hey, are you ok?" Michael asked gently.

Samandriel nodded, quickly and unconvincingly. His eyes were blurry with unshed tears.

"Sammy, your aura looks awful," Michael said worriedly. "What's wrong?"

Samandriel shifted, uncertain of how to answer. His aura looked awful? What did that even mean? Was it bad? Was Michael mad at him now? He didn't sound mad.

"Hey, look at me," Michael said uneasily. It was somewhere between an order and a plea.

Samandriel tried to look up at Michael, but he couldn't seem to move. _I'm a disaster,_ he thought. _First I'm a mopey, weepy mess, and now he finally starts being normal and ordering me around, even if it did sound more like a plea than an order, and I can't even obey him. This is the worst time to freeze up!_

A tear slipped from the end of Samandriel's eye and dropped down his cheek. Another followed it, and another. The tears splashed down onto his pale, interlocking fingers.

Michael's hand came up and gently cupped Samandriel's chin. Samandriel didn't resist as Michael turned his head so he was looking up into Michael's eyes. Michael softly brushed the tears from Samandriel's cheeks with his thumb. More took their place, so he pulled Samandriel into his embrace to try to comfort him.

Samandriel broke down completely, clinging helplessly to Michael like he had on the roadside. Michael rocked him and carded his fingers through Samandriel's hair. The tears came as a relief for Samandriel. At some point he stopped crying, but Michael didn't let him go.

It had been a long time since someone had just held Samandriel like that. It was really nice, and Samandriel felt safe enough to fall asleep on Michael's shoulder. He liked feeling safe.

 **If you've got a minute and you like this, feel free to drop a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**The plot went somewhere kind of weird I hadn't planned in this one. Let me know in the comments if it's too confusing or anything.**

Michael hadn't known how much having his soulmate with him would affect him. He knew there would be an instinctive obsession and an irresistible desire to protect Samandriel, but he hadn't expected it to be so powerful. He'd spent years looking forward to his soulmate and preparing to meet him, but Samandriel had always been something of an abstract concept.

Now, he was real. A living, breathing child with hopes and fears and trauma. And Michael was totally obsessed with him.

Samandriel had cried himself to sleep in Michael's arms. The sleep was good. He was sick and exhausted, and needed to rest. Emotionally, sleep would give him a break. His mind could take the time he needed to process, and he would feel better when he woke. But the tears- those scared Michael. Samandriel's aura was darker than he'd heard aura's were supposed to look. Not darker in color, darker in emotion in a way he couldn't put into words.

Samandriel was broken emotionally, and Michael didn't think he knew how to put him back together. He watched him sleep, and he was shocked by how much he liked just watching Samandriel breathe. He could probably watch for an hour and not get bored. Maybe that was kind of creepy. He should stop watching Samandriel sleep.

Michael sat at the table and got out his laptop. He had a lot of work to do, and he was angled so he could keep an eye on Samandriel. The takeout he'd ordered came, leaving him in a quandary. Was sleeping or eating more important for Samandriel's health? He tentatively guessed eating.

So Michael gently shook Samandriel's shoulder. "Samandriel? Samandriel, wake up."

Samandriel stirred. He yawned cutely and rubbed his eyes. "Michael, what is it?" he asked.

"I got you some soup," Michael said. "You need to eat it." He handed Samandriel a bowl of soup.

Samandriel looked skeptical. He stirred the chunks of vegetables with his spoon. "It looks weird," he complained.

"It's Thai," Michael explained. "That's normal for Thai soups."

"I don't want it," Samandriel said petulantly.

"Why don't you try it before you start whining," Michael suggested irritably.

Samandriel's reaction had Michael scared for him. He flinched, and his aura lit up with fear, panic and resignation. His soft blue eyes filled with tears. Michael didn't like it. Samandriel shouldn't look like that. He shouldn't be so scared, because he should know that he had nothing to be scared of.

Michael was starting to hate whoever had raised Samandriel to be so terrified and jumpy. He wanted to track them down, frame them for the worst crime he could come up with, and see if he could get them tortured in jail for the rest of their lives.

But Michael pushed aside his anger. For now, he knew he needed to remain calm. Samandriel would naturally assume any anger Michael expressed was directed at him. Maybe over time, he could prove to Samandriel that he wasn't a monster and wouldn't hurt him. But in the immediate future, Samandriel needed to see that Michael wasn't angry with him.

"It's alright," Michael said soothingly. He sat beside Samandriel and slipped his arm around his soulmate's shoulders.

Samandriel flinched, but made no attempt to escape him. Michael wasn't sure if Samandriel didn't want to pull away, or if he was afraid Michael would get angrier if he resisted. He hoped it was the first, but he thought the second more likely.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Michael said sadly.

Samandriel sniffed, holding back tears. "But you're mad at me," he protested. "Everybody hits me when they're mad."

"I'm not mad at you," Michael insisted sincerely. "I was mildly annoyed with you and I'm mad at someone else. Even if I was mad at you, Samandriel, I would never hit you. Believe me."

"I'm sorry," Samandriel mumbled. "I don't believe you. I don't know how." He was shaking. Samandriel was clearly scared Michael was going to hit him for refusing to believe he wouldn't hit him.

 _I_ hate _whoever did this to him_ , Michael thought furiously. He was seething. Samandriel was beautiful. It was a testament to his character that he could be so sweet and gentle, while he was so broken. Michael wanted to find Samandriel's abusers and use them as shark bait. Outwardly, he remained calm. He couldn't risk Samandriel misinterpreting his anger. He played with Samandriel's hair to sooth him.

"It's alright," he whispered. "I'm not mad that you don't believe me. I hope I can earn your trust someday."

Samandriel's aura was all confusion and lack of understanding, but Michael let the subject drop. He didn't know how to explain it so Samandriel could understand, and there was no point frustrating him with incomprehensible promises. Some other time, Michael would find a way to make Samandriel understand. He could wait; he was patient.

Samandriel had fallen asleep while Michael was thinking. He looked adorable, asleep with his head on Michael's shoulder. It was a sign of trust, that he felt safe enough to drift off like that after a charged, not entirely pleasant conversation. His soulmate trusted him. A rush of possessive love washed through Michael. He knew it was the soulmate bond influencing him, but Samandriel was perfect. And he was starting to trust him.

Samandriel mumbled Michael's name in his sleep. It entranced Michael, though he wasn't sure why. He found himself staring at Samandriel's soft pink lips, wondering if he was going to say anything else. And then Michael was staring at them for another reason, wondering what it would feel like to press his own lips against them…

He groaned and tore his eyes away. _Samandriel is barely more than a child_ , he reminded himself sternly. _I should not be attracted to him like this, soulmate or not. He's traumatized, and I'm the only one he has to cling to. I cannot be thinking about him like this yet._

Samandriel stirred and snuggled closer to Michael, which wasn't helping at all. Desperate to find something to focus on besides the none too innocent thoughts he was having about his soulmate, Michael started spoon feeding the soup to Samandriel.

One bowl of soup later, Michael had mostly successfully schooled his thoughts to recognize Samandriel's status as an abused stranger, not a lover. Watching his lips wrap around the spoon hadn't helped, but he was _totally not_ focusing on it. OK, yeah, maybe he was a little. He couldn't help it.

Michael put the bowl away and tucked Samandriel under the covers. He started working on his laptop at a table across the room, but Samandriel started tossing and turning in his sleep and got very upset. Michael had forgotten how much safer Samandriel felt sleeping if Michael was right there with him. He brought his laptop over to the bed and sat down beside Samandriel. He spent a few minutes playing with Samandriel's hair and caressing his face before Samandriel calmed down enough for him to go back to work.

When he finished a while later, Samandriel was still asleep. He checked his watch. If it was nine in Quincy, it would be seven in San Francisco where Michael lived. But a lot of people were on vacation or at a conference like he was this time of year. Where had his friends been going? Let's see, Raphael was in Sweden. Michael counted across the ocean on his fingers.

"Uh, four am," he said. "No." Maybe if it had been four am where Gabriel was he could've called. Gabriel had an unhealthy tendency to stay up an hour later than whenever the party he was at ended. He would probably be up at four. But Raphael could count on one hand the number of times he'd gone to that kind of party. He was asleep, like any respectable person, at four in the morning.

Gabriel was staying in San Francisco, if Michael remembered correctly. His family couldn't afford to send him anywhere. Oh, and he'd be in school already most likely. Gabriel was on his last year of high school. It started up earlier than college. School would be out for the day, so he could call Gabriel.

Gabriel had a brother about Samandriel's age, so maybe he would have a better idea of what Michael was supposed to be doing than Michael did. At the very least he would be someone to talk to. Michael pulled out his phone and flipped to contacts. He clicked on the first name on the list and listened for Gabriel to pick up.

"Hey Mikey!" Gabriel's voice came through the phone almost immediately. "What's up?"

Michael knew from prior experience that if he answered the question most people would be asking with that phrase, Gabriel would interrupt him and claim that the ceiling or the sky was up. But if Michael took the question literally, Gabriel would give him a long lecture on expressions, despite knowing perfectly well that Michael knew what an expression was.

"That question is meaningless when you are the one asking," Michael said.

"And my spoilsport best friend, as always, gives the dull, mature answer," Gabriel cried dramatically. "Michael, you're breaking my heart."

" _Gabriel_ ," Michael sighed, drawing out the vowels to show his irritation.

"I've really missed you raining on the party here," Gabriel continued cheerfully. "It adds spice to life. So how's Quincy agreeing with you?"

"It was- fine," Michael said uncertainly.

"You don't sound sure, and I note you used past tense," Gabriel said. "What went sideways?"

"I found my soulmate," Michael blurted.

"OK. You wanted to find your soulmate, right?" Gabriel said. "So why aren't you over the moon? Is Samandriel eight feet tall or something?"

"What?" Michael asked, confused. "No, his height is well in range for his age. That's not a concern."

"So, are you going to tell me what the problem is?" Gabriel asked.

"He's- he's scared of me. Of everything," Michael said. "I think he's an abuse victim."

"Ouch," Gabriel agreed. "Is he safe with his family?"

"That's another problem," Michael said. "He's not with his family. I found him abandoned on the street. I haven't talked to him much, so I don't know exactly what happened. But there's no family in the picture, and it looks like bringing them back in would probably just make it worse."

"How's he holding up?" Gabriel asked. "That's a lot of pressure for a kid to deal with."

"He cried a lot," Michael said. "He's asleep now. I got a bit annoyed with him earlier, and he panicked. He acted like everyone who's ever been annoyed with him before felt free to use him as a punching bag."

"I assume you tried to assure him you wouldn't hurt him," Gabriel said. "And I'm guessing he doesn't believe you."

"It was like- it was like he didn't even understand what I was saying to him," Michael said. "And I don't know what do."

"Be gentle and give him time," Gabriel said. "Listen to him, even when he isn't saying anything."

"Do what?" Michael asked.

Gabriel sighed. "Just be really patient and ask him how he feels about everything you do."

"OK," Michael said. "I can do that. But, will it work? Will he be ok again?"

"I don't know," Gabriel said. "It might depend on what happens with the thing we don't discuss over the phone. How is that coming?"

"Um, it could be worse?" Michael tried.

"That doesn't sound good," Gabriel said.

"Being around Samandriel is making it worse, and it's going to come up sometime in the next week if I can't stop it," Michael stated, trying to keep his voice calm and matter of fact.

"Just don't do anything rash," Gabriel pleaded. "Samandriel needs you to be ok."

"I know that," Michael said desperately. "That's why I've been able to stop it this long. But I don't know how much longer I can do this."

"It'll be easier when you get back home," Gabriel said. "You could leave the conference early."

"It'll be over in a few days," Michael said. "I was hoping to stay the whole time, but you have a point. I- If it gets worse I'll get on the quickest flight home. I just want to make sure Samandriel will want to come with me when I leave, and I don't know that yet."

"Alright, stay a few days, Michael, but you're making me nervous," Gabriel said. "Be careful. Really careful."

"I'll try," Michael said.

"Yeah, I know," Gabriel said. "Talk about something less nasty."

"We could talk about Samandriel," Michael suggested hopefully.

"Are you gonna do that soulmates thing where he's your favorite topic of conversation for the next three years?" Gabriel asked, amused.

"Um, maybe?" Michael admitted. "But Gabriel, you have to see him! He's the most adorable person on the planet."

"You _are_ doing that thing," Gabriel said. "At least describe him properly if you're going to gush about him."

"I'm not- gushing," Michael protested. "I _just_ think he's cute."

"Mm-hm," Gabriel said in his I-am-so-not-convinced voice.

"Stop it," Michael said.

"Come on, spill," Gabriel said. "I want all the details so I can tease you properly."

Michael groaned. "Ugh, fine. He's little and thin, and he's got the most adorable big blue eyes. There's enough dirt in his hair that I'm not entirely sure what color it is, but I think it's light brown. And so amazingly messy."

"I think that's pretty normal for hair that's so dirty you can't tell what color it is," Gabriel commented wryly. It's really not newsworthy."

Michael huffed. "You're the one who asked me to describe him. Anyway, he's about twelve or thirteen. He's pale, almost unnaturally so. I don't think he's been outside much at all."

"That's not good," Gabriel said.

"I know," Michael said. "I can't seem to stop worrying about what might've happened to him. I suppose his bracelet left him vulnerable."

"His bracelet?" Gabriel asked. "What color is it?"

"White," Michael stated. He tried unsuccessfully to keep the disgust out of his voice. "Pure white."

"You think he's worth less because of his bracelet color," Gabriel said angrily.

"Well, if it was anything else it'd be fine," Michael argued defensively. "It's not like I'm prejudiced or something. But it's not even shaded. It's awful. And now it's stuck on my left wrist, and I'll be a laughingstock."

"He's your soulmate," Gabriel emphasized. "Your freaking soulmate, you self righteous jerk!" And Gabriel hung up on Michael.

Michael stared at his phone for a moment before setting it down on the nightstand. He lay down beside Samandriel and tried to put Gabriel's insult out of his mind, but it kept turning over in his thoughts. Was he prejudiced about the bracelets? He'd never had to think about it much before. Now it was a very real problem staring him constantly in the face.


End file.
